


Ego Despicias Alis Tuis

by MaK



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaK/pseuds/MaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a fairy and a juggalo despise each other so motherfuckin' much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ego Despicias Alis Tuis

**Author's Note:**

> a fic for my friend that i wrote on my phone sorRY FOR ERRORs umu

At first, it confuses you; why is Aradia acting so cold towards you? Sure, you murdered some of the last trolls in the universe and possibly made out with some other bloody victims, but everyone seemed to let it go once the sopor got back into your system. Kanaya was angry for awhile - a long while - but after she broke your jaw she let it go and apologized. Everyone mainly avoided the subject and kept topics for conversation on a different hand - which was fine with you. It's not as if you - in your now drugged state - enjoyed running the string into Equius's throat or beating Nepeta to death. Regardless of how you or anyone else feels though, Aradia continues to stare spades at you. 

And it's really motherfucking confusing. 

It bothers you and makes you want to punch a hole in the wall. Anger and rage are things you'd rather not experience twice. This in itself bothers you and it takes half a sweep to figure it out. Aradia spits out your name with venom and respect and so much hate it's disgusting. 

Maybe she hates you because she was so close to the dead? The Maid of Time was dead herself - has ended a million of her own lives - so maybe she hates you for disrespecting them so? Then again, you doubt she knows how many times you've shoved your bulge into the limp, dry mouth of Eridan or bitten Tavros's rotting legs. How could she know?

After awhile, it doesn't matter. You begin to associate the warm, burning bubbling in your chest with her and it's not love, never red, but only black. So motherfucking dark not even Kanaya could light the shit up. 

So, you breathe. You do not want to be a hateful troll. You want to be a calm motherfucking dude who just wants to get his feeling jam on with a little troll every once and again. Kanaya had glared spades at you and you ignored it and she let it go and that was okay but Aradia won't motherfucking quit and you end up breaking three of ypur fingers when you punch the wall in frustration. While Karkat bitches at you and wraps your hand, you consider: if you can't do spades, why not hearts? With a little joking and prodding, maybe you can turn that fairy motherfucker into your matesprit?

"Hey," you say. Your voice scratches and before you even really breathe her wings flutter and she's staring at you with a hint of death and excitement in her eyes. "You look motherfucking beautiful today, sister."

She punches you in the throat and you don't breathe properly for the next week and despite how much you ignore it your bulge is screaming at you to get into that fucking quadrant. Hate isn't a miracle, it's a motherfucking disaster coated in bruises and blood. What a shitty disguise. 

Physically speechless for a couple of days, you avoid the fairy. She stalks you ocassionaly and will glare at you so annoyingly you can only scream silently. When your voice returns to a dry, raspy croak, you announce to her via chat that you think she's motherfucking beautiful and looks better in red than she did in black. You also compliment that, despite being the warmest and shittiest blood, she's usually all smiles and grins and corpse parties. "Also, your horns are exotic as fuck."

Aradia goes offline and you smirk. That red fucking fairy has started to wrap her nasty, red little fingers around your heart and squeezing it til' the only thing you bleed is black. Resisting proved too hard when she basically throws spades at you constantly. In retaliation, you throw just as many, and a heart. "You'd look so motherfucking better if you didn't wear make-up." 

The two of you dance around a little square made for one. It's not checkered but you've smeared and mixed and licked both your own and her blood off the floor. The colors mix to an ugly shade of magenta and you drag your fingers through it and slap her. 

Your kismesis claws at your throat when near you, but when not, she'll resort to much more colorful games. Games such as leaving a thong or bra on your desk - they always smell good - or wearing your shirt in front of Karkat if only to piss you off. It's infuriating to know she can hold so much control over your emotions with such mundane actions. 

"Just trying to compliment a sister," you tell her and hate her for it because your voice is practically dripping with hatred. "Ain't no reason to punch a fucker in the throat."

Aradia toys with the band around her palm and looks thoughtful for a moment. It lasts only that long and she's back to staring at your face paint. It's tinged red today. "You killed Equius." She taps her foot against the table's leg and says, "You're insane."

"And you are motherfucking beautiful," you tease. It slides off your tongue like your nails across her skin and you want nothing more than to make her scream and to rip at her throat and make her pull at your hair. Instead you kiss her cheek and can feel the way she clenches her jaw and tenses all over. Aradia smashes her foot into your shin and you limp awkwardly for a couple of days. 

 

When she pushes you into a corner - hard and quick enough to possibly give you a goddamn concussion - you can immediately feel the drive riveting through her rusted veins. You don't know what she wants or what exactly she's even striving for, but you know what you want. You want to rip those pretty, little wings apart and break her nose. You want her to motherfucking bleed. 

"Sup, my fiery sister?" you drawl, high and lazy. Honestly, you want to bare your teeth and bite her neck. Resistance is hard, but you manage. "We got a motherfuckin' problem today?"

"Shut up." You feel the warmth of her blood before her skin reaches your own. For an almost horrifying moment, you think she's going to kiss. Sweep you off your feet by arousing you to death in a corner? Shitty plan. Anyway, her lips flutter at the bulge of your throat before biting down, hard, on your shoulder. 

Her smirk is cocky and tinged indigo when she moves away. Driplets of your blood run down her chin and stain her teeth and hood. "You look great in purple, sis."

"You are," she hesitates. Insane, crazy, out of your fucking mind? "Infuriating."

You want to tell her the feeling is mutual and that you want to strangle her to unconsciousness before shoving your bulge into that warm fucking mouth of hers. 

Instead, neither of you speak. You raise your fist to strike but instead flick her ear and pinch her cheek. Aradia shoves her thumbs into your mouth and force a smile on your face.


End file.
